


Ladies Night

by TwinEnigma



Category: Naruto
Genre: Assassination, Assassination Plot(s), GFY, Infiltration, JUST MURDER, Ninja, No Underage Sex, No pairings - Freeform, Other, Pre-Shippuden, Violence, You Have Been Warned, female ninja get the short end of the stick, kunoichi being badass, seduction with intent to murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-26
Updated: 2010-09-26
Packaged: 2018-12-23 23:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12000186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinEnigma/pseuds/TwinEnigma
Summary: WELL THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY.And wow, did this go to weird, dark and sad places, especially since they are implied to be 15-16. But, then again, they aretrained killers, who have training for this kind of crappy mission, and they get more detached emotionally the deeper in they go so yeah...Notice also that there is an absolute bare minimum of chakra used in this fic. It's majority weaponized violence, manipulation and strategy."he brings rice only to his own paddy" - expression, meaning he only does things to benefit himself"we are not here to discuss oil" - not here to waste time with chitchat"a talented hawk hides its claws" - referring to a wise man keeping some of his talents in reserveWas the Grass envoy Sasuke or not?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯





	Ladies Night

            The mission itself was simple: infiltrate and assassinate a rogue warlord in western provinces of Wave Country.  The target was well-guarded, but it was of little matter: this warlord’s habits were well-known.  He took regular “constitutionals” at high-class teahouses and sought the company of beautiful young women, preferring the most expensive and attractive of both entertainers and prostitutes for his pleasures.  He would dismiss his guards when occupied with his female company, but refused to leave his weapons far from hand.  Four attempts to assassinate this man had already been thwarted – the first an in-house effort and the subsequent three by male ninja from competing nations – and he had managed to subdue or kill all his attackers so far.  In fact, this warlord had begun to claim he could spot a ninja sent to kill him from just the look of the man.

            Perhaps, Tsunade, the Fifth Hokage of Konoha, concluded, it was high time that a woman handle the job.  She took in the team of four girls standing before her with a critical eye.  She had selected these girls because they were the _best_ their generation had to offer, the most skilled, they were familiar with each other, and, most importantly, their faces were not known outside the ninja community.

            Tenten, the Weapons Specialist.

            Hinata Hyuuga, mistress of the Gentle Fist.

            Ino Yamanaka, mind-diver.

            Sakura Haruno, medic and apprentice to Tsunade herself.

            Four girls, so young and still so very innocent in many ways – and yet, they were trained from their genin years to expect that one day this type of mission would present itself, that these skills could save the lives of their teammates and village.  And she, Tsunade, would be the one to send them on the mission that would strip them of that last girlish innocence young kunoichi possessed.

            “This is a B-ranked assassination mission. Primary target: the warlord Kyouraku in Wave.  You will infiltrate the teahouse he favors and eliminate him. I am assigning Tenten as team captain,” Tsunade said matter-of-factly, folding her hands into a steeple.  Her eyes narrowed slightly.  “Girls, you will tell no one on your teams or in your families the nature of this mission.  Is that understood?”

            The four girls shared a brief exchange of eye contact, before nodding in the affirmative.  Any doubts as to the nature of their mission had been cast away with that statement.

            “Very well then,” the fifth Hokage said, closing her eyes.  “You are dismissed.”

            Tenten stepped forward to accept the mission scroll from Tsunade’s assistant, Shizune, and bowed.

            Tsunade did not open her eyes until the girls had left the room.  She then took a bottle of her strongest sake from one of the concealed compartments of her desk and spent the rest of the afternoon drinking in silence.  Her assistant, this time, did not complain.

 

* * *

 

            After leaving Tsunade’s office, Tenten read the mission scroll and promptly reported to requisitions.  It was her responsibility to make sure that everything her team needed for the mission was ready to go with them before morning.  The jounin on duty gave her a sad, angry look when she presented the mission scroll, before a female jounin finally snatched the scroll away from him and escorted her back into a separate section of the office.

            Tenten was secretly glad for the interruption.  As much as these types of missions were necessary, men would never understand, but their fellow kunoichi did.  When she entered the ranks of shinobi, she had learned fast that she had entered into a man’s territory and, that to be useful to her country, she might have to do jobs that men could not.  The very idea of these types of missions was terrifying and embarrassing initially and then she spoke to the older, more experienced kunoichi. It was like being welcomed into the arms of big sisters and aunts, who knew exactly what she was going through and could coach her through those fears.

            Tenten supplied the female jounin with the measurements and descriptions of her teammates and watched silently as the jounin retrieved the necessary weapons and clothing, mentally checking off each item on her list.  Four silk kimono with concealed light armor, four pairs of tabi and wooden sandals.  Four garrote wires disguised as obi cords.  Twenty-four decorated senbon for the hair, twenty flat-bladed throwing knives and four adjustable concealed weapon holsters.  One complete make-up kit, with a drawer of concealed sedatives and poisons for their weapons, and an assortment of useful and decorative combs.

            She tried not to think about the fact that soon she would be the one telling young kunoichi about these missions and bragging about how the garrote slid around the target’s throat just-so.  It was easier to focus solely on preparing their supplies and not on what lay ahead for them.

 

* * *

 

            Ino wandered up to the favorite cloud-watching knoll of her teammate, Shikamaru, and promptly lay down in the grass, her eyes turned to the sky.  She laid perfectly still, watching the clouds and letting her mind drift to dreams and pleasant recollections.  Soon enough, the sun felt too warm on her body and her clothes felt too hot, heated by the sunlight.  She stood and began to wander back through the village, until she found her teammates.

            She bought them dinner, as she always did when she had an assignment separate from her team.  Ino did not pick at her food like she was normally wont to do and let Chouji talk her into adventurous dishes and desserts, while Shikamaru lamented the troublesome task of deciding what to eat.  The three of them chatted almost sedately for some time afterwards and, as always, Chouji promised that he would have a special bento ready for Ino in the morning.  She chided him playfully, looking forward to the box of candies and sweets he knew she loved.

            Ino was careful to never let her smile falter in front of them.

 

* * *

 

            Hinata went home and watched her cousin Neji spar with her younger sister Hanabi.  Neji’s steps were exaggerated and his stance relaxed as he gently guided the younger girl into his attacks.  He spoke softly as he explained her weaknesses and had her begin again.  Hanabi would eventually grow frustrated with his blocks and let her temper loose like an exploding firecracker, but for now the cousins merely sparred while Hinata watched them quietly.

            That night at dinner, Hinata told her family she had a mission and would leave in the morning, as she had done with every mission since she had first begun as a genin.  Her father wished her luck and a speedy return and Neji merely nodded, just like all the times before.  She spent the rest of the evening packing and checking the status of her standard weapons and equipment and, just like every night before Hinata had to leave on a mission, Hanabi could not sleep.  She crept into Hinata’s futon in the middle of the night, hugging her big sister closely as though she would disappear and never return.

            Hinata slept lightly, promising herself she would never let her sister down.

 

* * *

 

            Sakura wandered.  She made her way to the swing set and watched the students in the academy as she pushed herself slowly back and forth.  Then, she visited the training ground where she and her teammates had passed the bell test, her fingers lingering on the pole where Naruto had been restrained.  Her feet then found their way to Naruto’s favorite ramen stand, where they had all tried – unsuccessfully, mind you – to see what was underneath Kakashi-sensei’s mask.  She ordered a bowl of miso ramen and ate it slowly, nodding her head as she imagined her teammates there, talking back and forth about those trivial things they’d always said when they were here.

            Naruto was still short and gangly in her mind’s eye, but cheerful – except when he was baiting Sasuke and then he had a shit-eating, fox-like grin.  She wondered how much he’d grown, if she’d recognize him when he came back or if he’d even recognize her.  She imagined him taller, his jumpsuit finally fitting, and could not help giggling at the image, leaving the teammates of her memory to gawk at her – _“Girls are so weird,”_ Naruto would have said.

            Sasuke, she recalled as cute, his face locking into the occasional scowl with hints of smiles and mischief that he could never truly hide.  He would pick at his food in her memory and fidget uncomfortably in their presence, as though looking over his shoulder for his deranged brother in the shadows of the street.  She liked to think of him this way, like he was after Zabuza and before that first dreadful chuunin exam.  She dared not imagine how he might have changed and instead clung to the assurance that she and Naruto would become strong enough as a team to bring their lost teammate home, kicking and screaming, if need be.  Hell, she’d even break his legs if she had to.

            That night, Sakura dreamed of coming home and being welcomed back in the arms of her teammates.

           

* * *

 

            The four kunoichi departed Konoha in the morning, setting a steady pace in the direction of Wave Country.  They moved quickly through the treetops and lightly chatted with each other about simple things, like sweets and the latest in weapons and fashion.  At nightfall, they picked a safe place to set up camp, lined it with traps and settled in to eat field rations and discuss the details of the mission.

            There was one primary target with a minimum of two bodyguards, bodyguards that were dismissed to wait by the door when the target desired intimate relations with his entertainment in private.  The target had three loyal subordinates that were in prime position to replace him, should they be left to do so, a fact listed as most undesirable by the client.  These secondary targets were more vulnerable, but could prove troublesome if not eliminated quickly and quietly.

            The building’s security was adequate.  Customers were forbidden from carrying anything longer than a tanto indoors and several contracted local thugs consisted of the typical security.  Following their primary target’s arrival, security was beefed up for the night: a patrol of twelve samurai loyal to the warlord took place along the edges of the property and walkways of the building, moving in shifts of two for the duration of the evening.  In addition, two more plainclothes patrols waited outside the walls of the property, ready to respond with archers and swords if necessary.

            Intelligence stated that there were several points of entry and exit to the favored teahouse of the targets and marked exactly what entrances and exits were used solely by the girls of pleasure.  It also marked where their competitor nations had failed in their missions – poor execution of stealth and flawed retreats.  They then reviewed several holes in the building security and construction weaknesses before coming up with a handful of emergency retreat routes to memorize.

            They ended the night giggling about boys and the rare glimpses they’d each got of their teammates naked.  Hinata refused to listen as Tenten described her dear cousin Neji’s body in detail, covering her ears with her hands and proclaiming she couldn’t hear her and how it was so gross – he was practically her brother!  Ino commented on Shikamaru’s unending laziness being so overwhelming that he didn’t even bother to put his clothes back after bathing on one mission, as it was “too troublesome.”  Sakura laughed and laughed, but refused to discuss the bare buttocks of either of her teammates, not even when Ino and Hinata begged her. 

            Three of the four girls collapsed into their tents, giggling and smiling, all trepidation regarding their mission pushed to the back of their minds for the moment.  The fourth, Tenten, settled into first watch with a solemn expression.

 

* * *

 

            The next several days of journey proceeded in a similar fashion - they would travel, set camp, shoot the breeze, and then review their intelligence and tactics before sleeping.  Just before reaching the Great Naruto Bridge, Tenten ordered them to stop to prepare.  They bathed, changed into the kimono and tabi, painted their faces in make-up, styled their hair and double-checked their concealed weapons.  The last step was to deeply rub strong moisturizers into their hands to soften and conceal the calluses they possessed from fighting and handling weapons.  Tenten then sealed their extra supplies and normal clothes into a scroll and hid it in her kimono sleeve.

            Later, when four giggling geisha in kimono walked down the bridge and into Wave, no one paid them much mind.  Their passports were fake, of course, and the letter of recommendation to the teahouse was a flawless forgery.  A few coquettish dips of their heads, exposing the slender ‘w’ of their makeup on their necks, and coy glances had the border guards so spun around that they hardly noticed the papers that were breezed under their noses or the slight Fire Nation accent on Tenten’s request for directions.

            The matron of the teahouse was not as easily fooled.  She reached out for the letter, but then quickly grabbed Tenten’s wrist, turning it over to reveal the calluses and yanking the paper away with her other hand.

            It was the one greatest weakness of a kunoichi in infiltration – their hands always betrayed them.

            “Is something the matter, Madam?” Tenten asked, her lips curving around the saccharine tone.

            The matron’s gaze darted to the girls behind her and then she let go, stepping back.  “Bah, _kunoichi_ ,” she murmured, waving them inside.  “I don’t know how they expect you to fool anyone with those hands.  They are too rough.  A geisha’s hands are soft.”

            Tenten smirked, shooting a look over her shoulder, and noticed the barest hint of blades disappearing into the sleeves of the other girls.

            The matron led them down a narrow wooden corridor, past the servant quarters and apprentice rooms, continuing, “And your shape is all wrong.  Too much muscle, not enough flesh.  There is hardly anything of a woman left about you.  Are there no women in your village?”

            Her insults were ignored – casing the interior of the joint took precedence – and the narrow corridor prevented them from moving forward in anything other than single file.  The relative locations of the servant quarters and apprentice rooms, as well as their numbers, had been as estimated.  The rooms of the girls were upstairs, near where the building forked into the business side of the establishment.  A set of narrow wooden stairs ran up to those rooms, while a smaller set of broad stairs led into a wider corridor that ran past the kitchen and lengthwise along the main rooms of the teahouse.  A large, lean cat lounged in the kitchen doorway, washing its paw.

            Tenten discreetly signaled to Ino and then the four kunoichi followed the matron upstairs.  She showed them into a smaller room at the end, occupied by three young women.

            “Fuu, Tama, Bi, go, see to your younger sisters,” the matron ordered.  “You will be training them tonight.”

            The three girls looked confused, but quickly gathered several informal yukata and hurried out of the room.  They shot hurried, frightened looks at the four kunoichi as they passed, but said nothing.

            Then, the matron slid the door shut. 

            “I assume you are here regarding our esteemed customer,” her lip curled as she said this.  “While he is a _diligent_ patron, he brings only rice to his own paddy.  Six of my girls have been injured in these failed attempts – two scarred permanently.  Rumor has it that I have been recruiting prostitutes to cover my losses.”

            Tenten smiled demurely, her eyes lidded.  “We are not here to discuss oil, Madam.”

            The matron snorted, pulling a pipe from her obi: “Of course not. It is not your way.”  She paused, lighting her pipe, and took a deep breath, the fumes rolling out of her mouth like a dragon as she added, “You four will take the place of my girls.  I trust you know how to perform a fan dance and the tea ceremony?”

            “Of course, Madam,” Tenten replied, inclining her head.

            “There is another thing,” the matron said, taking another long draw from the pipe.  “I’ve heard he’s to bring guests.  But I suppose four cats know best the way to obtain fish.”

            “A talented hawk conceals its claws,” Tenten agrees.

            “If that will be all, ladies, I have an establishment to run,” the matron said, bowing and opening the door.  “I will send for you when your customers arrive.”

 

* * *

 

            As soon as the door was shut once more, Ino flashed through handseals, her body going limp.  She would finish the scouting of the building, piggybacking her consciousness on the cat they’d spied earlier.  The animal was familiar to the entire building’s personnel, and was unlikely to garner any suspicion as it traveled the halls, given its probable role as a pest controller or pet. 

            Meanwhile, Tenten, Hinata and Sakura reviewed the descriptions of their targets and worked through the plan for the evening.  If there was a fan dance, Tenten decided that Hinata would lead, as she was the best of the four at these arts. A political marriage was par for the course for the Hyuuga heiress and, as such, she’d undergone heavier training aimed at being a deadly sleeper agent for whatever husband should be so unlucky to call her his.  The poor man would obtain a beautiful wife with a handsome dowry and talented in the finer arts of entertainment, but should his interests turn away from the Hyuuga, his wife would become his executioner.

            Tenten was skilled enough with the fans.  Her dexterity with her weapons had been kind to her, but she would have to spend a lot of time concentrating on avoiding making the slips that would give her away as a weapons specialist.  Sakura, in contrast, was entirely too mechanical and academic in her fan dances.  A civilian would not notice, but it was not Sakura’s strongest point.  Ino was decent enough as well and she was quite attractive to boot, but intelligence regarding the former girls suggested that neither of the fair-haired girls would strike their primary target’s fancy.

            There were other things to worry about, such as the guests of their primary target and whatever protection they might bring with them.

            Rogue warlords were notoriously unstable for alliances.  If they had a service or power and money that could not be obtained elsewhere, it was considered an acceptable risk to send a probative envoy.  Yet, it was never anyone too important or too well-financed, since the rogue could always turn on the envoy and either kill them or use them as leverage.  Always, the envoy was assigned a guard or, in many cases, the envoy consisted entirely of a contracted neutral third party of shinobi.  If the latter was the case, then the mission could get ugly very fast.

            Ino woke, gave her report, and they rehashed the entire scenario.  This time, they ran down three extra escape routes, in case they were made by a shinobi guard of the potential guests, and prepared several throwing knives with a solution of powerful paralytics expressly for this scenario.

            There would be no faults in this mission.  They’d succeed.

            A knock came at the door.

            Showtime.

 

* * *

 

            Sakura was incredibly nervous as she stepped into place on the small stage in the private entertainment room of the second floor.  The room wasn’t very large and they would have to perform in very close quarters, increasing the risk of mistakes.  Additionally, she knew she wasn’t the greatest at fan dancing and singing and hadn’t done either since Academy.  She’d had no reason to practice when she’d been assigned to Team Seven – gah, Naruto would have hit on her and Sasuke would have thought it stupid and ridiculous – and the intricacies of entertainment had been the furthest thing from her mind when she began studying under Tsunade.

            “You’ll be fine, forehead,” Ino said and gave her a last minute tug on the obi to fix it.  “Just relax.  No one we know is watching.”

            One of the true geisha kneeled on the side of the stage, arranging herself artfully, and then lifted the shamisen.  The first notes of the song danced from her nimble fingers and then her voice lifted to accompany it.

            Sakura quickly schooled her face into a careful _noh_ -worthy blank.  Her eyes darted to her left, where Tenten had taken position, and then back to her right, where Hinata and Ino were posed.

            _Relax,_ she told herself, closing her eyes a moment and then exhaled, opening them.

            The bamboo curtain rose, the audience shadowy figures beyond.

            _There is no one here that we know,_ she reminded herself.

            Hinata moved first, the lead, her steps confident and graceful.  Sakura turned on cue and then back again as they moved to circle, sleeves curled around their arms.  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Ino winking at her and she resisted the urge to grin.  A geisha had to maintain the _noh_ face during these dances and Ino was trying to get her to smile, just like Academy.

            Sakura’s steps increased in confidence as she moved forward, gently dipping at the knee and turning her face.  There was no way Miss Piggy was going to ruin her mission!  She turned, right on cue, fan perfectly unfolded and undamaged.

            _Bring it on_ , she thought, waving the fan confidently.

 

* * *

 

            Ino mentally breathed a sigh of relief as the dance ended.  Now for the easy part.  She flowed into the regular room after Hinata, flanked by Sakura and Tenten.  Each step brought them closer to their targets, clapping appreciatively at the performance of their assassins.

            The matron waved a hand to them, her previously icy disposition hidden behind the veneer of a skilled geisha.  She introduced them as new girls, just coming out of their apprenticeship and obtained from the lesser-quality teahouse in central Mist, an establishment well-known for its practice of dressing up and training prostitutes to pass as geisha.

            Ino resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she approached.  If the matron wished to paint them as higher-class prostitutes merely posing as geisha, it was her business and it would only help their cover, explaining any contradictions.

            Hinata sat down next to their primary target, the neckline of her collar dipping slightly in the back as she batted a coy look in his direction.  It brought his attention firmly on her.  It was strange seeing Hinata at work – even in Academy, it had been strange and decidedly eerie how she switched tracks from a mouse to a cat.  Like this, one would never guess that she was shy and reticent about her body.

            Ino moved toward the secondary target that had been giving her goo-goo eyes since they stepped off that stage.  Sakura and Tenten were doing likewise, each selecting the secondary target that seemed to have been more enamored of their individual qualities.

            There were two others at the table, a dark-haired civilian boy and a well-dressed geisha with red hair, both of whom couldn’t have been any older than they were.  This boy must have been the guest they were warned about.  He honestly didn’t look like very much, though he was handsome.  In a way, he almost reminded her of Sasuke, if Sasuke hadn’t cut his hair in a year, slicked it down into the worst style possible, dressed like a city boy and wore dorky glasses.

            “Such beautiful little daughters you have, my dear,” the target, Kyouraku, said, one hand tracing the curve of Hinata’s cheek even as he addressed the matron.

            “My lord is generous,” the matron demurred, clearly falling back on her training to appear neutral, “And will find his investments well made.”

            Her eyes flicked to the civilian boy as she added, “May they continue to be fortuitous.”

            So, the boy _was_ an envoy of some sort.  Where were his guards?

            “Now that we all have beauties to match those of our esteemed guest, our fortunes are assured!” Kyouraku chuckled, indicating the boy.

            Hinata began to pour the sake, Ino, Sakura and Tenten following suit.

            “We are but flowers, floating in water,” the redheaded geisha said, pouring the boy sake as well.  “Our fortunes fade in the passage of time, while alliances form the willows that support the world.”

            Ino resisted the urge to frown.  Being closest to the girl, she could smell the faintest hint of a flowery cream – heavy on aloe and petroleum jelly, which meant a moisturizer.  And their target implied the girl had been brought by the envoy, which, while not completely unusual, was more than a little suspicious.

            Their primary target laughed and raised his cup.

            “Lord Kyouraku,” the boy spoke up – and Ino resisted the urge to gape at the familiarity of the voice.  “My master wishes to know of your decision.”

            Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sakura’s breath catch.  She had no doubts Sakura was entertaining the same thought as her: that this boy didn’t just resemble Sasuke, but _was_ Sasuke.

            All that searching, all that effort, countless discussions of how they’d get him away from Orochimaru and they’d found him alone in a _teahouse?_

            It could not be that simple. 

            Not to mention the plethora of problems it’d cause for them if it was true. They couldn’t just stop mid-mission and switch tacks to capture him.  They weren’t outfitted for capture in the slightest – everything they were carrying was geared for assassination.  Worse, they were already committed to their targets.  A misstep now would get them all killed.

            “Patience, boy,” Kyouraku admonished him, lowering his cup.  “Relax, enjoy the drink and your woman’s company.  You are young and obviously new to understanding how business is done.”

            The boy scowled, his hand on his cup, and when he spoke next, his accent was thick with frustration and definitively Grass Country in origin: “Forgive me, my lord.  My master has lost many experienced men to the force that plagues us.  I am, as you say, young and times have been unkind.”

            Ino relaxed a little, inwardly relieved.  So, he just sounded a bit like _him_ when he was trying to be formal and hide his accent.  It wasn’t altogether unusual to have people that sounded similar and it wasn’t as if black hair and dark eyes were altogether uncommon features.  Besides, the vain Uchiha would never be caught dead dressed like that.

            “Even the smallest fledgling may have the talons of a hawk,” the redheaded geisha observed, unwittingly turning her hand the barest corner of a degree and revealing calluses.

            _Kunoichi,_ Ino concluded, quickly scanning her build out of the corner of her eye as she lifted the lighter.  The kimono draped on the girl in a way it wouldn’t on a civilian and she had no doubt the extra bulk it suggested was not flesh, but armor.  Lighting the cigarette of her target, Ino tactically replied, “Ah, but a wise hawk knows to conceal his talons when in the rook.”

            Hinata, Tenten and Sakura agreed silently, shooting the redhead a subtle look.

            The redheaded kunoichi, to her credit, stiffened only slightly, now fully aware there were other kunoichi present. 

            If she were smart, Ino thought, this kunoichi would get her client out of here at the first opportunity.

 

* * *

 

            It was another hour’s worth of stilted conversation and sake between their primary target, the secondary targets and the envoy from Grass before things began to progress towards the next stage of their assignment.  Hinata was patient, though.  She knew better than to rush these things.   This sort of mission was all about the illusion.

            Additionally, there was the matter of the intel they were obtaining.  At his age and build, it was a miracle the Grass envoy was doing as well as he was in terms of keeping upright, but his tongue was an entirely separate matter.  He’d revealed the nation was severely crippled, almost as badly as Rain was rumored to be, and that Orochimaru had been sending his private forces into their country for some time now.  They were looking to purchase the services of Kyouraku and his samurai in order to secure their few remaining villages.

            The redheaded kunoichi disguised as a geisha was doing everything in her power to attempt to control the damage.

            Hinata sort of felt bad for the girl – obviously, she was contracted to keep the idiot safe and he wasn’t making it easy on her.

            “...You’re pretty,” the Grass envoy slurred distractedly, practically talking to the redheaded kunoichi’s breasts.  “Why haven’t I had sex with you?”

            Kyouraku and his generals howled in laughter at the boy’s expense and Kyouraku’s hand slid down to caress Hinata’s butt.  It was one of many such gropes, ones she’d been careful to encourage and appear receptive to.  She coyly slid her eyes down, pressing her painted white hand against his thigh and carefully slid it back as she moved to pour him another cup.

            He looked at her hungrily, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. 

            _Good_ , she thought.

            “Why not experience the beauty of the flower, bird, wind and moon?” the redheaded kunoichi suggested salaciously, her hand pressing first against her lap, then against her neck, hair and the line of her cheek.

            Her client blushed bright red, all the way to the tips of his ears, and practically toppled as he attempted to get to his feet, seemingly unaware of the extent of his inebriation.  With Kyouraku and his generals toasting his apparent success, the Grass envoy disappeared through the door with his bodyguard, undoubtedly to sleep it off. There was no way that kunoichi would allow that idiot to touch her.

            A quick look confirmed Sakura, Ino and Tenten were each moving in to their respective targets now, carefully separating them.  Each coy look, each dip of their knees and incline of their head as they touched the cords of their obi was used like a weapon to divide these men.

            Hinata smiled coyly, her hand finding her target’s, and she whispered in his ear: “It is said the fairest blossoms bloom in secret, beneath the moon.”

            Success.

            His attention was now focused solely on her as he waved away the bodyguards lingering in the room.  The matron was last to leave, closing the doors behind her.  There were other customers to attend to downstairs and she knew better than to be a witness to what was to occur.

            Hinata turned away and approached the stage, looking over her shoulder as she pulled the obi cord.  A little roll of her shoulder and the kimono slid down teasingly.  Unseen, she pulled the cord into her sleeve, keeping it hidden.

            Kyouraku moved closer, pulling at the tie of his haori.  He licked his lips, pulling it off and moving towards the tie of the yukata he was wearing.

            “Let me,” Hinata purred, carefully concealing all but the barest hints of her breast as she circled behind him.  She threaded her arms under his, running them down and then back up, ensuring his distraction as she pulled her hands back along his sides and undid the simple knot.  It slid to the floor in a flutter of silk as he groaned.

            _So foolish,_ she observed, tracing a finger lightly down his spine.  She pressed herself against his backside, stroking his sides, and then let the obi cord slowly slip down.

            Kyouraku turned his head, his lips seeking her.

            Hinata smiled, tracing his lips teasingly with her finger, and led him towards the stage.  Carefully, she stepped up onto the slightly raised platform and pushed him to his knees, still careful to conceal everything but her breasts.  “The sweetest honey to be tasted is the nectar of a flower.  It is said it has the most desirable of fragrances.”

            “I should very much like to experience this flower,” her target said, unaware of the very immediate danger he was in.

            She leaned forward, threading her arms around his neck and passing one end of the obi cord to the other.  “This flower is poison,” she told him and immediately struck the tenketsu points for his vocal cords and spinal column.   She spun him around like a rag doll, pulling the cord tight, crushing his larynx and trachea with the heavier wire hidden in the cord.  A quick, bone-shattering kick to his pelvis placed her into a better position of leverage and ensured he was well beneath her when his bowels vacated.

            Hinata looked up as soon as he stopped twitching.

            Sakura’s target appeared relatively unmolested, save for the nose that appeared to be caved into his skull – a good solid upward strike had undoubtedly rammed the cartilage into the brain, killing the man instantly.  Tenten’s target had a senbon rammed through his ear.  Ino’s target was still mobile, heading to the door with Ino’s limp body on the floor, hands locked in a certain seal.  This target turned, giving Hinata a thumbs up, and continued on.  Both Tenten and Sakura were waiting by the doors, just in case.

            Hinata let the body slide down and quickly pulled her kimono back on.

            “Send someone with more sake, things are getting exciting,” Ino made the surviving target say to the bodyguards, contorting the face in a lecherous grin, and quickly retreated back inside.

            That done, Ino returned to her body and, in a flash, both Sakura and Tenten had the man down to the ground, one of Sakura’s hands over his nose and mouth and the bulk of Tenten’s body squashing his chest to the ground.  They didn’t move until he stopped moving.

            Hinata moved, quickly gathering her obi and fixing it.  Ino was already a step ahead of her and waiting to help tie it back in place, while Sakura and Tenten approached the body of Hinata’s target.  Sidestepping the waste, Tenten held the body still while Sakura formed the handseals for a chakra scalpel.  Half a second later, they had the head.

            “Time to go,” Tenten said.

            Hinata nodded, leading the girls back onto the small stage and out through the rear door reserved for the entertainers.

            “This way,” Ino pointed out, guiding them back through a smaller, service corridor.  There was a stairway up and, visible through the small window slats, was an adjacent building.  Ino made a handsign for two archers above them.

            Hinata took the lead, using chakra to propel herself upwards, and smashed through the floor, instantly swirling into a bastardized copy of Neji’s Heavenly Spin.  She was nowhere near as good as him yet, but the speed and severity of her attack caught both archers completely off guard and she was able to collapse most of their internal organs before they even realized what hit them.

            Ino, Sakura and Tenten followed, leaping up through the hole in quick succession. Ino crouched down, humming appreciatively at the state of the two archers, before quickly finishing them off with a kunai.

            “Now that, they had to have heard,” Sakura commented dryly.

            Hinata smirked, kicking off her geta, picking them up, and leaping over the railing.  She quickly ran down the tiles and with a burst of chakra, launched herself to the next roof, her teammates right behind her.

 

* * *

 

            The alarm had, indeed, sounded shortly afterward and the whole hornet’s nest worth of samurai were after them.  The four kunoichi had managed to lose their pursuers in the night by leading them deeper into the country, circling around, and then using the underside of the Great Naruto Bridge to leave quickly and quietly.  Once on the other side, they completely stripped out of their clothing, bathed and redressed in their normal clothing.  Their kimono, geta and tabi were burned to avoid recognition and the head was sealed into the mission scroll.  It would later be sent to the client as confirmation of the kill.

            They set a brisk pace out of Wave, knowing full well it wouldn’t be wise to stick around.  Undoubtedly, their basic descriptions were already circulating among the samurai loyal to Kyouraku and it would be several months before the last vestiges of his command structure completely broke down enough to be considered safe.  Standard Operating Procedure following one of these kinds of assassinations kept the assassin team doing missions or training in-village until the ruckus died down.  If they left at all during that time, it would only be with their regular units and never to the area where they’d been operating.

            Tsunade was waiting for them at the gate when they arrived, Shizune flanking her.

 

* * *

 

            That night, Tenten merely smiled at her teacher and his protégé when they buried her in a youthful greeting and unleashed a barrage of weaponry on their heads.  Their enthusiasm for training never waned, not until her supplies were exhausted.  Might did not say anything.  He clapped her on the shoulder, nodding once, and it was understood that whatever she’d had to do was accepted.

 

            That night, Sakura sought out Iruka and asked if he wanted to have ramen with her.  Iruka understood, recognizing that she wasn’t looking for him but rather the last member of her team she felt really connected to, Naruto.  They talked about nothing at all and he did not ask when she sighed, looking back at the Academy longingly.

 

            That night, Ino suffered to play a game of shogi with Shikamaru and allowed Chouji to bribe her with sweets.  Shikamaru let her win, but if she knew this, she did not say anything.  Her smile did not falter.

 

            That night, Hinata sparred with Neji while Hanabi and her father watched.  He tried not to look surprised when she countered Neji’s move with her own, but the curl of his lip into a smirk gave him away.  Neji merely smiled and guided her hands into the proper form.

 

            That night, Tsunade did not drink.  She stared at the monument, the sake next to her untouched.  The storage scroll sat heavily on the mission reports. 

            That night, she mourned the last vestiges of their innocence.

**Author's Note:**

> WELL THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY.
> 
> And wow, did this go to weird, dark and sad places, especially since they are implied to be 15-16. But, then again, they are _trained killers_ , who have training for this kind of crappy mission, and they get more detached emotionally the deeper in they go so yeah...
> 
> Notice also that there is an absolute bare minimum of chakra used in this fic. It's majority weaponized violence, manipulation and strategy.
> 
> "he brings rice only to his own paddy" - expression, meaning he only does things to benefit himself  
> "we are not here to discuss oil" - not here to waste time with chitchat  
> "a talented hawk hides its claws" - referring to a wise man keeping some of his talents in reserve
> 
> Was the Grass envoy Sasuke or not? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
